


waking up to say

by cheschi



Category: Gossip Girl
Genre: F/M, Gen, Growing Up, more of past chair tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10818558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheschi/pseuds/cheschi
Summary: "Humphrey," she says, and then she slaps him out of instinct.—All of them throughout the years.





	waking up to say

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not even done yet with GG but for the sake of this fic, i'm going to pretend that season 6 didn't happen (read: dan is not gossip girl). idk this is just my interpretation of what they grew up to be like. tbh i'm not that big a chair shipper but i honestly can't see any of them ending up together, at least not in the long-run because they all need to work through the issues they have separately lol 
> 
> they're mostly single but still very much involved in each other's lives and i guess that's kind of how i pictured them, all doing their own thing but they still go back to each other, all of them, bc that's just how it is. 
> 
> I wrote this before falling asleep and then finished it while waiting at the mall so lmk if there are any typos or errors
> 
> and yes, the title is from belle (yes, the part before everyone starts yelling bonjour)

**1.**

"We're in a rut, all of us," Dan says, sipping his cocktail.

  
She cocks a manicured eyebrow at him and squints at him and lines on her forehead that she swears weren't there a few years ago involuntarily crease when she does so. She blames it on the incompetence at work.

  
"Blair, I'm ghostwriting _young adult love_ _stories_. You're stuck at a job you hardly even _like_. Serena is—"

  
She waves her hand dismissively. "I get your point, Humphrey. The ten-year plan didn't exactly fall through the way it was supposed to, _okay_."

  
She puts a hand to her chin.

  
"But. We're better people now."

  
He pauses. "Do you genuinely believe that?"

 

**2.**

The glass slips carelessly from Serena's hand, almost like she forgot the weight of what she was holding in her hands.

  
It wouldn't be the first time.

  
The glass rolls to the side but the wine runs down the carpet, the rich shade of purple staining the fluffy white.

  
" _Shit_ , this carpet was a gift from Lagerfeld." The amount of concern in her voice surprises him, just a little. Words always sound light on her mouth; whatever she says always sounds so effortless.

  
He helps her clean the stain from a trick he learned from some video he saw online, helps her clean up her mess because that's one of the only things he does well anymore, and then he leaves her apartment.

  
For once, he doesn't wish she'd told him to stay.

 

**3.**

Jenny still writes him sometimes.

  
Their mom was right, and for once he's glad she was right about something, she was better off in Chicago.

  
Every couple of months, they'll receive a postcard, or a magazine where her work was featured, and eventually, a catalogue of her very own. He mostly keeps up with her by checking her blog which she updates pretty frequently now and then, and the steady stream of articles and interviews that come her way once her label really starts to pick up.

  
Rufus beams with pride, keeps all the articles she sends them, and emails almost every single one of them to his grandparents.

  
Someone offers to do a joint piece on them, something about the Humphrey duo: the writer and the designer. His dad looks genuinely confused when he walks in on Dan laughing while reading the letter. (" _a_ _piece_ _detailing_   _your_ _creative_ _dynamic_ _as_ _siblings_.") He picks up the phone and gives Jenny a call about it and despite the fact that's it's 2:00 am over there, she picks up on the second ring and they laugh about it for a while.

 

**4.**

"Humphrey," she says, and then she slaps him out of instinct.

  
She doesn't quite know why she does it. A small part of it is genuine shock at seeing him and a little irritation that he has the nerve to come back to New York after how he broke it off with Serena, but on a bigger level, she knows that it's just a leftover habit of her previous self.

Something perfunctory that served its purpose in the past, but no longer really fits or feels right. Like last season's Marc Jacobs collection.

  
"Um, _ow_ ," he says. "I might have deserved that but hello to you too."

  
He looks at her thoughtfully, looks at her like a complex novel he's trying to pinpoint and analyze and break into parts for his own understanding. He opens his mouth to say something, but—

  
"I'm on my way to get some tea. Join me."

  
The words fall out of her mouth without any prompting but she can swear she meant to ask him what he was doing on her side of town.

  
He pauses for a moment, shakes his head, and gives her the answer she knows he was going to give anyway.

  
"You know what, what the hell," he says. "What visit to New York is complete without a run-in with Blair Waldorf."

  
She beams at him.

  
In another life, at some point in the past, he would've follow her anywhere if she'd asked him to. Knowing Blair though, she would have never said something like that out loud—but, even then, he thinks that he would've followed her still.

 

**5.**

Chuck doesn't write her while she leaves for Paris again after her divorce, even if he said he would.

She finds out she doesn't mind as much as she would have 10 years ago.

Blair stumbles upon the softest burgundy scarf at Hèrmes and sends it to him as a Christmas present anyways.

 

**6.**

"Miss Serena?" Dorota calls, holding up a jacket. "I think Mr. Nate left it from when he spent the night the other day."

  
Blair raises an eyebrow over the rim of her glass.

  
"No, no," Serena laughs, beaming her thousand-watt smile. "We are _so_ done with that."

  
"Wouldn't be the first time it happened," Blair tells her, pointblank.

  
Serena grins, "He crashed on your couch. He brought me home after Sebastian's art exhibit at the Met."

  
Blair yawns. Tonight is not one of the nights she's interested in probing about Serena's romantic life so she lets the comment slide.

  
"It's funny but I don't feel the years creeping up on us." Serena muses.

  
Blair scoffs, but it's fond. "Of course you don't."

  
Serena tosses her hair over her shoulder. Her smile is still golden and her hair is still radiant.

  
"I love you, you know," Serena says, squeezing her shoulder.

 

"Us against the world," she agrees, leaning her head against Serena's.

 

**7.**

Apparently, a snow storm in the Hamptons of all places, a pair of house keys left in her car, and a lack of signal down there is all is takes for the universe to bring Serena and Nate back together in the same place.

  
They run into each other in the coffee shop down by the corner of that small vintage store Serena likes, the cafe that simply has the best banana muffins she's ever had, the place where Nate scraped his knee one summer trying to skateboard, where Blair and Nate went after their first public appearance as a couple during the van der Woodsen summer party, where she had her first kiss with her fifth boyfriend ( _Philip_ , she remembers vaguely. _The_ _lacrosse_   _player_.) There are enough memories scattered around in all the places she's been if she looks hard enough, the kind that are forged out of years of jet-setting and familiarity with a variety of social circles, but she finds that she always comes back to her memories from the Hamptons. She's a summer girl, through and through.

  
Serena and Nate laugh about all these things over hot chocolate, which leads to a thing at his house, then another the next day at her house. It's been a while, but it feels natural and like they're both ready to try this again.

  
So they give it another go that winter when they're 21 and juniors and on the brink of the rest of their lives.

  
They break it off a few months later but try again when they're 23.

  
And then again when they're 26.

  
And then again when they're 32.

  
They do it a couple more times in between, not officially, never officially, until they decide it's enough, it's time to grow up.

 

**8.**

Chuck still sends flowers to her shows sometimes, but never goes in person.

Nate, on the other hand, goes to almost all her shows. Often enough, he's carrying two bouquets—one from Chuck, and one from himself. Nate's smile is easy and infectious, probably always will be, and the slightest hints of gray roots peeking out from under his chestnut hair is endearing.

Blair thanks him and kisses him on the cheek, and lets him walk her home.

 

**9.**

"Are you happy?"

"Yes," she lies and wonders how much of their childhoods they've taken with with them into adulthood.

 

**10.**

Blair moved to Paris for the summer after college ends. Just for the summer, she tells herself, just until New York feels right again.

She savors Paris with all its flavors, with all its paintings, with all its colors and most importantly, with its wonderful lack of updates from her phone.

She sits by the Sienne and remembers the ducks at Central Park. She takes her coffee there with the cute art gallery owner who doesn't speak a word of English.

"Sugar," she says as he leans forward in his tailored blazer to drop 3 cubes into her cup. "To drown the taste of apathy."

 

**11.**

He kisses Blair drunkenly on New Year's Eve and pulls back when the alcohol wears off and reality kicks back in.

Dan's eyes widen, "Look, I'm sorry, I don't know where that—"

"What are you, sixteen?" He realizes his hands are still on her shoulders.

"Technically, twenty-seven, but hey, who's counting ri—"

"You are _such_ an idiot," she rolls her eyes before pulling his head back down for another kiss.

 

**12.**

"Blair?" Her mother's voice sounds surprised over the phone.

"Just wanted to wish you and Cyrus happy Hanukkah," she says, and mentally starts planning her outfit for Christmas dinner.

"One semester back at Columbia and already you're missing us?" Eleanor laughs. "See you next week. Give my best to your friends when you see them."

"I always do."


End file.
